The Quidditch final crept up on Hermione quite suddenly; one day, everyone was buzzing about Sirius Black, and the next day, everyone couldn't stop talking about the upcoming Gryffindor versus Slytherin match on Saturday. The change in focus caught Hermione off-guard, and she found it hard to suddenly care about something she hadn't even been aware of.

Harry was very excited, but also very nervous about the match.

"Not only do we need to win, but I need to make sure we're more than 50 points up," Harry said constantly. "Slytherin's currently leading the tournament by 200 points, so if we're not up by 50 points, they'll end up winning the Quidditch Cup, even if we win the game."

The Gryffindors were all intensely charged-up about the match. They hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley had been Seeker, and their Captain, Oliver Wood, was determined to win it his last year at Hogwarts. The Slytherins' attempt to sabotage Gryffindors' match against Ravenclaw hadn't been forgotten either, and the enmity between the teams seemed at its highest point ever.

It was in this atmosphere Luna approached Hermione the day before the big game.

"We need to go and talk to Draco," she told Hermione.

Hermione blinked. "We do?"

"We do," Luna said simply. "He's been wallowing for too long."

Luna's odd ideas generally turned out for the better, and Hermione trusted her friend. If they needed to go talk to Draco Malfoy, then that was what they would do. Besides, it had been weeks, and Draco still hadn't resumed speaking to her. Hermione was rather fed up with it by now.

They found Draco by the lake after dinner, skipping stones by himself as he stared moodily out at the water. He startled at their approach, his eyes going wide with alarm, but Luna handled this by unexpectedly tossing a dinner roll at him.

"Catch!" she said, before throwing another one.

Draco was startled into action, catching the first roll and scrambling to catch the second. By the time he had caught all three rolls Luna had thrown at him, she and Hermione had reached the area Draco had claimed, and it was too late for him to flee. Draco seemed to realize this, staring down at the rolls in his hands before raising his head to look at Luna, accusation in his eyes.

"Practice for Quidditch tomorrow," Luna said cheerily. "Good job."

She plucked two of the rolls from his hands and handed one to Hermione. Draco stared at them for a long moment before slowly sitting down, eyes never leaving them. He started absently shredding his roll, not eating it.

"What do you want?" he wanted to know.

"It's time to move on," Luna said simply.

Hermione watched Draco. Luna's words seemed to make him angry, before he was abruptly consumed by a deep despair and slumped.

"You don't know my life," he muttered. "I can't just move on—"

"You can, and you will," Luna said firmly. "If you have any hope of having a better future for yourself, it will be made of the choices you make now."

"You don't get it." Draco looked at her sideways. "Some things can't be undone."

"No. They can't," Luna said sadly. "But we can do our best to make up for them. We can try to show others we've learned from our mistakes. We can try to earn forgiveness, to become people that deserve a second chance."

Draco seemed to gnaw on that. Hermione wondered at what was going through his head. She was glad he'd taken her words to heart, but he seemed in a much darker mood than she would have thought. He wasn't guilty for his father's crimes as a Death Eater, and though he'd been terrible to Muggle-borns, he'd essentially only been a bully. He hadn't killed anyone, and he hadn't done anything truly reprehensible.

But his relationship with his father…

Hermione imagined that might be undone.

Draco must be feeling the loss of identity and a loss of faith in his father, Hermione thought. Draco had idolized his father his entire life, putting him on a pedestal, and now, having realized his father was essentially an evil person, the idol statue he aspired to had come crumbling down. But it was good, Hermione thought vehemently. Draco shouldn't want to aspire to that. If that was what being a Malfoy was, he shouldn't be a Malfoy anymore, or he should change what defined the Malfoy House.

But it would cost him his relationship with his father. And something like that… once Draco declared he believed his father had been a Death Eater and that he had no intentions of following in his footsteps, well…

There was no way that song could be unsung.

"You are going to lose your friendship with Hermione if you don't," Luna told Draco, her blue eyes never leaving his. "Do you want to lose that?"

"Hey! She hasn't spoken to me either!" Draco objected.

"I thought you needed time!" Hermione protested. "I was trying to be respectful! And—well—I've been busy—"

"Busy with what?" Draco sneered. "You were too busy to spare me a few minutes at any point?"

"You didn't talk to me either!" Hermione snapped. "And it's none of your business—"

"Hermione's been being blackmailed," Luna told Draco seriously. "She's been panicking about it for a while, and it's kept her very busy."

There was a stunned silence as Draco's jaw dropped, and Hermione threw her hands up in the air, so frustrated and aghast she could barely find the words. "Luna!"

"What?" Luna turned to look at Hermione, her eyes widening. "Oh, no. You look upset."

"Of course I'm upset!" Hermione said, exasperated. "You just told Draco I was being blackmailed!"

"But you are," Luna said. "That's why you've been so busy, hasn't it?"

"How do you even know about the blackmail?" Hermione demanded.

"Oh," said Luna. "Was I not supposed to?"

"No! It was a secret! I never told you about it!"

"You didn't?" Luna questioned, puzzled. "But we all went with you to the second hearing to prevent you from being kidnapped again."

"You never explained that!" Hermione protested. "You all just showed up and said you were there to provide protection! I thought you meant from Pettigrew!"

"Oh," said Luna. She paused. "Maybe I should explain things more."

Hermione growled under her breath. Draco just sat there, wide-eyed.

"You—you're being blackmailed?" he asked. "You were kidnapped?

"It's fine," Hermione snarled. "I'm handling it."

"Is it bad?" he ventured.

Hermione snorted.

"Oh, it's not that bad," she said, sarcastic. "It's just everything I've worked so hard to build is now at risk of coming crumbling down and destroying my entire life."

Draco looked hesitant.

"If you want, I could help?" he offered. "I could try and get whatever material they have on you, or help make them 'go away'—"

"Blaise keeps trying to convince me poison is a good idea too," Hermione said, cutting him off, "but the answer is still no. I'm not killing anybody; nobody is going to go 'missing'. I'm just—"

She broke off, frustrated, while Draco watched.

"You'll just… what?" he prompted.

"I'll just—I'll handle it," she said, sighing heavily. "I'm figuring it out. It's—well, it's going to involve some risky things, but I think I'll be able to get a handle on it. It's just—with exams coming up, and everything else I have going on, it's just a level of stress I really didn't need or want. It's really hard not to panic at times."

Draco bit his lip.

"If you're busy handling this," he said slowly, "I could help handle other things?"

Hermione shot him a look. "I'm not having you do my homework for me."

"No, no," Draco protested, though he grinned with a wince. "I meant—you have all these other things going on. If there's something I could take off your plate to help you—"

Hermione looked at him suspiciously.

"Why?" she asked. "Why would you want to do that?"

Draco winced.

"Call it making up for being a bad friend," he said, offering a pained smile. "I shouldn't have reacted to your confrontation about my father's past how I did."

"Oh? You realize that now?" Hermione folded her arms and sniffed.

"Yes." Draco looked down, not meeting her eyes. "I—I was immature, and I didn't handle the news particularly well. I regret how I handled all of it."

Considering Draco's 'handling' of his emotions had involved him sulking for weeks, Hermione was inclined to agree with him. Draco looked at Luna, who was watching him and nodding gently, before he looked back up at Hermione.

"But actions speak louder than words." Draco took a deep breath. "So. I'm sorry. Is there something I can help you with to make it up to you?"

Hermione looked at Luna, who smiled encouragingly, before looking back at Draco. She sighed.

"I could use someone to collect on my investments for me," Hermione admitted. "And if you could help with the hedgewitches getting the silver they need from their landlords, it would be a lot off my plate."

Draco blinked.

"The hedgewitches?" he said uncertainly. "You—you've kept in contact with them?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Draco."

"You realize they are probably deceiving you?" Draco asked seriously. "You need to be careful—"

"Merlin and Morgana, Draco! They don't steal magic," Hermione exclaimed, frustrated. "They're just people. They've got weaker cores than you or me, but they don't steal magic from anyone else to try and get more."

Draco looked uneasy. He glanced away, looking at the lake.

"This is one of those things my father misled me on, isn't it?" he said finally. He ran a hand through his hair, anxious. "They're probably entirely harmless, aren't they?"

"They're not harmless, but they're not more of a threat than any other witch or wizard," Hermione said. "They're just people who are scared of werewolves. They just need a bit of help."

"With werewolves?" Draco said, blinking.

"They've been renewing the silver wards protecting the tenancies from werewolves," Hermione explained. "We managed to do a couple of the tenancies last full moon, but there are many more to go."

Draco considered this thoughtfully.

"I could go and help," he said. He pulled out a hewn wooden token from his robes, fingering it. "This is a Portkey I'm authorized to use to leave school grounds, if it concerns landlord-type concerns. When's the next full moon?"

"Monday," Hermione said, and Draco winced.

"Well," he said. He paused. "That gives me the weekend to help. And if I won't want to hang around the common room tomorrow evening anyway…"

Hermione's eyebrows rose, and she smirked.

"What's this?" she teased. "Draco Malfoy not certain he'll win tomorrow's Quidditch match?"

"Oh, shut up," Draco said, but there was no heat behind it, just amusement. He looked up at her, a soft smile on his face. "I've still been doing the Arithmancy, you know. I know my odds."

"And they're slanted enough that you think you'll have time to get off the grounds tomorrow afternoon to help get silver from the Sacred 28?" Hermione asked.

Draco made a face.

"It's not my fault Potter is a Quidditch prodigy," he said. "If Flint would listen to me and have our Beaters go more on the defensive tomorrow to make sure Gryffindor's golden girls couldn't score fifty points, we might have a shot, but no, they've got to play offense and try to take Potter out with a Bludger, like that's even a remote possibility with him on a Firebolt…"

Hermione was giggling as Draco trailed off his muttering. He looked at her, a tentative smile peeking onto his lips.

"I'll try to help you with your hedgewitch thing?" he offered. "I don't know what all I can do to help, but I'll try. And I can definitely help with your investments – that's something I learned how to do before."

Hermione smiled. "That'd be great," she told him honestly. "You taking over helping the hedgewitches will be a load of stress off of me. Thanks."

Draco's smile was still tentative, unsure, but it seemed stronger now, even as his melancholy lingered. He looked to Luna, who nodded solemnly, before turning back to Hermione.

"Then I'll help you," Draco declared. "I'll do the best I can do."